


Chained

by stilinski_wolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Because Peter is the Worst, M/M, Stiles and Derek do not engage in it at all, Undercover, Warning for Mentions of Human Trafficking, cop!Stiles, mafia, they try to stop it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 13:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15316341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilinski_wolf/pseuds/stilinski_wolf
Summary: Derek wants to be free of the life he was born into. To do that he has to snitch on his own people.When he meets Stiles at Club Hale, he thinks he's found someone he could fall in love with, but when he starts acting increasingly suspicious, Derek starts to wonder about his new boyfriend.But when the truth comes out, it isn't what Derek is expecting, and it just might be the thing that helps take down the mafia for good.





	Chained

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Chained](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16662489) by [silkerink (RauxenRivers)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RauxenRivers/pseuds/silkerink)



> This was a story written for the [SterekReverseBang](http://sterekreversebang.tumblr.com).
> 
> A big thank you to [frogsandboxes](http://frogsandboxes.tumblr.com) for the beautiful art that inspired this fic. Without it I wouldn't have written this story. I hope I did your wonderful art justice :)
> 
> If I missed anything in the warnings that you think should be in there, please let me know and I will include that.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

[Art by: [frogsandboxes](http://frogsandboxes.tumblr.com)]

“We’ve arrived, sir.”

Derek opened his eyes when his driver spoke, looking out the rolled down window at his apartment building.

Derek felt so exhausted that he didn’t even think he could get up the steps to the front door of the building where the doorman stood, but with a heavy sigh, he forced himself to open his door and step out of the car after saying goodnight to his driver. As he made his way up the steps, his eyelids drooped, and his doorman, Frank, looked at him in concern when he got to the door.

“Mr. Hale,” Frank nodded and opened the door for him. Derek only nodded in thanks, too tired for the usual small talk he engaged Frank in. Frank seemed to understand and said nothing as Derek stepped into the building and started heading towards the bank of elevators across the lobby.

Derek wanted to lay down as soon as he stepped onto the elevator and sleep for a million years, but the thought of what was waiting for him in his apartment stopped him from doing just that.

And of course Derek had to live in the damn penthouse, so it took forever for the elevator to climb all the way to the top of the 25 story building. Derek was regretting letting Peter talk him into the penthouse now.

When the elevators finally dinged open to the penthouse, Derek slowly walked out, taking his suit jacket off first and then moving to his tie. As he moved into the living room, the huge wall of windows displayed the big patio beyond, filled with a personal sized pool and hot tub along with a table and chairs, and a few chaise lounges to overlook the city, which glowed with twinkling lights.

The penthouse was silent, but Derek had only one destination. It required him to climb up the winding staircase to the second level first, though, and Derek groaned quietly at the prospect.

He almost tripped on his face when he tried to kick his black and shiny designer shoes off, but a quick reach out toward one of the couches in the huge living room saved him from that fate. Taking his socks off felt like heaven, and his feet touching the cold marble floor felt even better.

As Derek forced himself to trudge up the stairs, he stripped as he went, not caring where his clothes landed, until he got right outside the double doors of his room where he was only down to his boxers.

Derek opened the doors and instantly he felt more awake than he had in hours.

Stiles lay asleep under the covers of his king-sized bed on his stomach, arms wrapped around his pillow that was missing from Derek’s side of the bed. The comforter had been kicked off onto the floor and only the sheet covered Stiles’ lower body, exposing his torso to Derek, where his back housed a few tattoos over his shoulder blades and down his arms – but Derek knew where most of Stiles’ tattoos resided – on his chest.  
Derek sighed happily and padded over to the bed, lifting the sheet and sliding into the bed, groaning quietly at the immediate comfort he felt.

His arrival caused Stiles to shift in his sleep, letting out a sigh as he moved onto his side – his back facing Derek.

Derek moved in behind Stiles, instantly spooning him to his chest and lifting his right leg up around Stiles’, wrapping them up together.

“Mm,” Stiles hummed, and Derek knew the instant Stiles woke up fully, his body becoming tense before he looked over his shoulder and saw it was Derek. Then he relaxed and beamed at Derek. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Derek breathed, struck breathless as always by Stiles’ beauty. The dyed turquoise strip in his hair stood out in the dark, and Derek immediately toyed with it, wrapping it around his finger.

“How’d it go?” Stiles asked tentatively, and Derek sighed, dropping Stiles’ hair and then letting his head fall in the crook of Stiles’ shoulder.

“Shitty. Completely shitty.”

Stiles sighed. “What happened?”

“What else? Peter,” Derek huffed, scowling even as Stiles lifted a hand to run soothingly through his hair. “He wasn’t content with just selling the guns to the Argents. He hates them, so he fought for us to sell them to someone else, someone with even more money than the Argent’s.”

“Who?” Stiles asked quietly.

Derek looked down at Stiles. “Deucalion’s gang.”

Stiles’ eyebrows shot up and he turned in Derek’s arms so they were facing each other. “But Deucalion’s gang is completely off the rails. They’re all psychopaths.”

“I know. But Peter still believes that…” Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat. “…he still believes the Argents killed our family.”

“Oh god, Derek…” Stiles cupped Derek’s cheek and rubbed his thumb lightly back and forth. “I’m so sorry.”

Derek sighed and shook his head, then looked up at Stiles. “What about you? How was your day?”

Stiles bit his lip. “We’re closer to…well, we’re closer to bringing down both the Hale and Argent mafia.”  
Derek looked into Stiles’ eyes, and he could tell Stiles felt uncomfortable talking about this with him. But ever since Derek had found out that Stiles was working undercover for the police, Derek had accepted it – mainly because Derek was the one informing on his own gang, his own people. His own family.

Honestly, Derek hadn’t been sure they would ever make it once he found out about Stiles, even if they were technically on the same side, but 6 months later and they were still, somehow, making it work.

Derek found himself falling more in love with the enigmatic man every day, and he had started to hope that the day would come where they could be together without all the lies, without having to pretend that they were both amoral criminals with no regard for anyone but themselves.

They both played off their relationship like all they had was sex, that they enjoyed what the other could do with their mouth and dick, but aside from that they didn’t give a shit about each other. Derek was rough with Stiles in front of others, and Stiles was rough right back. Derek had to maintain the persona of a sociopath with little regard for others, and Stiles had to maintain the persona of a greedy, gold-digging twink who only wanted two things from Derek – his dick and his money.

When Peter would comment about how much longer Stiles had lasted than anyone else, Derek would say that Stiles gave head like no one else he’d ever been with (which was true) and that he was the perfect little submissive bitch, with a tight asshole that hugged his cock like a dream – which was half true. Stiles’ asshole did hug his cock like a dream, but Stiles was no submissive in the bedroom, and Derek loved that. And he also loved to get fucked as much as he loved to do the fucking.

But if he didn’t maintain the persona of a big Alpha Male top, then that would immediately make others think less of him - as horrible as it was that they gave a shit what position he held in the bedroom – and think him weak. Peter, the homophobic prick, already thought Derek to be weak because his significant other had a cock and not a vagina.

It got tiring maintaining that persona, though, day in and day out, for a majority of the day. Peter already suspected, that was clear. Derek didn’t used to be like he acted, and Peter remembered how he used to be. How ‘weak’ and ‘soft-hearted’ he’d been, ‘just like your father.’ But years ago, after the fire, Derek had hardened, had become broken, and had gone through a dark time. Peter had been there for all of it – for the merciless way Derek beat those who needed a beating, for how easy it was for him to pull the trigger.

But Derek had been a shell of himself, and over the years since then, he’d slowly crawled his way back to who he used to be – all while doing his best to hide that from Peter. The rest of those in the Hale mafia got in after the fire. Anyone who had been there before the fire had either died in the it as well, or left after, not wanting any part of it without Talia Hale at the helm, with her husband Rhys Hale by her side.

Laura had taken control after, but Derek had been in just as dark a place as she, and they had been a formidable duo to come up against – not to mention Peter and everyone else. They became feared; they became something you either were for or against – and if you were against them, you had made a terrifying enemy.

But a few years ago, Laura was murdered, dumped in an alley like trash, and Derek became the sole head of the Hale mafia clan. Not that Peter didn’t wish it were him or act as if he was the head of their family. But as the years went on, and Laura’s murderer was never caught, Derek started to grow tired of this life, of the constant hatred and backstabbing and betrayal, of the constant murder and blood – so much blood – of the constant danger, of being on high alert, of having to watch his back. Of everything. He was done.

Informing to the police was not something Derek had ever planned to do. But it had felt like his only option to get out of this life, of taking down his own family legacy, as well as the Argents, who were just as deadly, if not more deadly, ever since Derek took over the helm. Ever since he crawled his way out of the despair of losing his family, he refused to kill anyone. He would still beat others for the sake of appearances, but unless a situation demanded someone’s death and there were no other options for Derek to stop it, he kept his hands clean.

It made Peter eye him more closely these days, though he never said anything. Not even pointed comments. If any killing happened, it happened at Peter’s hands, or their enforcers.

Derek had been slowly, over the past two years, giving a little to the police at a time; of how everything was run, when they all met up, their financial records, plus anything he could get on the Argents. It was a slow process because the police wanted to get everything they could on the Hale and Argent clans before they moved in, so they could take them down for good, with no chance of reorganizing and starting up again. And they needed to make sure Derek was safe when it was all over, because there would be no hiding who gave them all up, who helped in taking them down.

Derek would have given them everything on the Hale’s operation right away, but then Peter - hell, everyone - would have noticed, and he would have been killed. Derek needed to step carefully or he would be the next Hale family member to be murdered – only this time, by his own people. Probably by Peter himself.

But then almost a year ago, at Club Hale, Derek had been sitting in the VIP section, sipping slowly on a drink and letting the loud, pulsing beat of the music and sound of voices drown out everything else, even his thoughts, when he saw him: Stiles.

He’d been dancing on the edge of the dance floor, tight black jeans hugging his legs and a small, pert ass and a leather jacket with no shirt on underneath, with his tattoos on full display, and the dyed turquoise strip of hair standing out in the low lighting of the club. Derek had been mesmerized, and when Stiles opened his eyes and locked them with Derek’s, it had been like a punch to the gut, and when he smirked, Derek felt instant lust tighten his groin. Derek had looked him over deliberately from head to toe, and Stiles had bit his lip. Derek had turned to his bodyguard standing off to the side and told him to ask Stiles to come to him.

Derek had watched as his bodyguard went to Stiles, and had watched Stiles grin and nod his assent. Then his bodyguard was leading him back to the VIP section where Derek sat alone, and Derek’s pulse hammered as Stiles drew nearer and he got to see the full scope of his beauty. 

“You summoned me?” Stiles had said, cocking his hip against the edge of the booth Derek sat in, his stomach muscles tightening, and Derek licked his bottom lip at the sight. 

“What’s your name?” Derek had asked, and Stiles had actually given his real name - well, he’d told him his name was Stiles, which wasn’t Stiles’ legal name, so when he’d been assigned to the undercover OP, he’d been allowed to use his nickname. 

Then Stiles had slid into the booth next to Derek and leaned in close to him. “What’s yours?”

“Derek.” 

“Derek. Nice to meet you, Derek,” Stiles had held out his hand for Derek shake, and when their palms had connected, Derek ran his thumb back and forth across the back of Stiles’ palm, and Stiles had bit his lip again, eyeing Derek with the growing heat of lust. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Derek had been direct, as he always was with those he wanted to spend the night in his bed with. But for some reason, Stiles’ answer mattered more to him than usual - if Stiles had said no, he would have been truly disappointed. 

But Stiles had only nodded and said, “yeah,” with a clear, distinct voice, eyes glued to Derek’s. There was no need for them to say more - they knew what they wanted, and it wasn’t to talk. Derek never came to his family’s club during its hours of operation to have conversation - he always came to find someone to fuck. 

Derek had nodded to his bodyguard, then they were sliding out of the booth, and Derek was taking Stiles’ hand, trying to ignore the skitter of goosebumps the touch elicited along his arm. His bodyguard cleared the way for them through the club, and Derek ignored the looks aimed their way - specifically at Derek, who almost everyone here would know. 

Derek had looked over his shoulder at Stiles and had seen him looking around at the others just as they were looking at him, and Derek wondered what was going through his head, why he’d seemed somewhat distracted instead of focused on Derek like he had been back in the booth. 

Derek turned back around as they neared the door, but not before he saw Peter standing by the bar, staring at him intently. Derek had learned long ago to ignore his uncle’s weird, creepy vibe, but in that moment Derek had shivered with unease. In that same moment, Derek wanted to hide Stiles from his uncle, but he realized it was too late as his uncle’s gaze shifted between the pair of them. 

Derek had turned away, an uneasy feeling in his gut. He wanted his uncle to stay away from Stiles - but he comforted himself with the thought that his and Stiles’ encounter would only be for a night. After that, Stiles would be gone from his life - away from the world he lived in. 

Derek had put his uncle out of his mind as they left the club - had put it all out of his mind and focused only on Stiles, just wanting to forget for one night the mess he was in, the life he was trapped in.

Stiles would be the perfect distraction.

~*~

The minute they slid into Derek’s car, he was leaning over, taking Stiles’ face in his hands and kissing him passionately. 

Stiles had given a surprised but pleased sounding moan before he sank into the kiss. Then they were making out in the backseat of Derek’s town car, hands sliding under coats, under shirts, into hair, around necks. 

Stiles pulled at Derek’s shirt at one point, bring him down on top of Stiles, and Derek kissed down his neck, shivering at Stiles’ moan before he pushed Stiles’ leather jacket open more in order to get a better look as he ran his hands down Stiles’ lightly muscled chest. 

Stiles was breathing heavily as Derek kissed down his neck, onto his chest, down to his right nipple where took it in his mouth and sucked on it. Stiles moaned and held onto Derek’s hair, arching into his mouth. 

In that moment Derek didn’t care if his driver heard them or saw them. He just wanted Stiles so badly, and if the hardness pressing against his stomach was any indication, Stiles wanted him just as much. 

Derek moved back up to Stiles’ neck, up to his ear where he whispered, “I want to fuck you.”

Stiles shivered and whispered back, “Then do it.” 

Soon the car was pulling up to Derek’s building, and Derek was pulling Stiles by the hand out of the car, and Stiles was holding his hand back, lust clear in his eyes.

Derek barely spared Frank a glance as he opened the door for them, and when Stiles whistled as they walked across the lobby and said, “What is it you said you do again?” Derek just looked back at him and smirked, “I didn’t.”

“Right,” Stiles had smirked back at him, and thankfully let the subject drop. 

When they got to Derek’s penthouse, he let Stiles take a moment to look around in awe before asking him if he wanted to join him in the bedroom.

Stiles did. 

They kissed as they fell on Derek’s bed, and he pulled Stiles’ leather jacket off his shoulders and tossed it onto the floor. Stiles’ tattoos stood out even more then, and Derek ran his fingers over them. “How long have you had them?”

Stiles looked down at where Derek was tracing the pattern at on his chest, and he shrugged. “Long time.” 

Something in Stiles’ expression told Derek he didn’t want to talk about it - and since Derek understood that feeling and Stiles had graciously dropped the subject in the lobby, Derek dropped it too. Instead he stood up and took his suit jacket off, then his suit vest, staring down at Stiles who was watching his progress intently. 

When Derek slipped his black button down off his shoulders, Stiles sucked in a breath. “Damn.” 

Derek smirked and kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving him in just his grey dress pants. Stiles sat up and ran his hand up Derek’s chest, biting his lip. “Damn,” Stiles said again. 

“You too,” Derek said, in case it hadn’t been clear in all the times Derek’s eyes had wandered to Stiles’ chest. 

“Not like this,” Stiles murmured. 

“Definitely like this,” Derek murmured back, to which Stiles shook his head, but Derek shook his back. Then he pushed Stiles back on the bed and went for his jeans. Stiles lifted his hips to help when Derek pulled them down his legs, taking his black boxers with him. Stiles’ erection bounced against his stomach, hard and thick. It was a good length, and Derek licked his lips as he looked down at it, wanting it in his mouth. 

So he did, and Stiles let out a loud squeak and then a moan as Derek took him deep. “H-holy shit!” 

Derek sucked harder, grinning as Stiles’ hand found his hair. 

Stiles cursed, and then started pumping his hips up and down, his breathing ragged and fast. “This okay?” Stiles said quickly, and Derek nodded, relaxed his throat, and let Stiles fuck in and out of his mouth frantically. 

Stiles had kicked his jeans off at some point and Derek felt his thighs come up to cradle Derek’s head between them. “Fuck, fuck, how are you doing this?” Stiles asked breathlessly.

Derek wasn’t quite sure what he meant. Maybe he meant how he was sucking his cock so good, or maybe he meant how he was making Stiles so out of control. But Derek just sucked harder, moving his tongue in that perfect way he had learned that usually drove his partner crazy. Although none of them had ever quite reacted to it like Stiles had. 

He was shaking, pumping his hips like crazy, shouting out obscenities as his hold tightened on Derek’s hair, and Derek was pretty sure he heard a sob at one point.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Stiles shouted, and Derek didn’t pull back, even as Stiles tried to pull his head back. “Derek!” 

Stiles shouted as he tensed, and then he was spilling into Derek’s mouth, shuddering and wiggling as Derek held him down by his hips, taking everything. When Stiles stopped coming and started to go soft in his mouth, Derek finally pulled back, grinning up at Stiles’ flushed, sweaty face as heaved for breath.

“Oh fuck,” Stiles shuddered again, his whole body jolting from the aftershocks of his orgasm. Derek stood up, noting how Stiles had his head thrown back and his eyes closed, arms and legs spread out wide, like jelly. He was still breathing heavily, and he still kept twitching.

Derek had done that to him, had made him that jittery, boneless mess, and felt pretty powerful standing there, his pants still on, as Stiles was laid out, naked and vulnerable and at Derek’s mercy if he wanted him to be. 

But Derek wasn’t about that. He never took from his partner without their full consent, which his uncle Peter had alway said was weak and silly to do. Derek still remembered Peter presenting him with a woman, bound and gagged, naked, on his 21st birthday, and how when Derek had rushed over to untie her and get her covered up, Peter had looked at Derek like he was the freak. 

That’s when Derek had shouted at Peter that he never raped anyone, that it was a horrible thing to do someone. He had pointed out how the woman had been crying, looking scared out of her mind. That’s when Peter had called him that. Derek hadn’t cared, because while he was in a dark place, he never went there, ever. The thought of doing it made him sick, and the thought that his uncle most likely had raped people made him even sicker. 

Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts and put himself back in the present, Derek saw that Stiles’ eyes were now open a sliver, looking at Derek, although he hadn’t moved from where he was sprawled out on the bed, sated. 

“Where’d you go?” Stiles asked. 

Derek shook his head. “Nowhere.” Then he proceeded to unbutton his pants and pull them down, in a less than sexy way. Derek was still coming back to the present, but he was able to fully shake himself of the memories by the time he’d started pulling down his underwear, smirking again when Stiles licked his lips and took a good, long look at his cock. 

“You’re at half mast,” Stiles pointed out, brow furrowing.

Derek shook his head and stretched over Stiles, refusing to head back in that direction with his thoughts. “I’ll be hard in no time, don’t worry.”

Then he kissed Stiles, hard and deep, and Stiles whimpered and kissed him back. He made out with Stiles for minutes on end, slowly rubbing his half-hard cock against Stiles’ flaccid one. They kissed for so long, tongues tangling, hands roaming, that eventually Stiles got hard again, while Derek had gotten hard almost right away. 

“Fuck me,” Stiles whispered at one point.

“You still want me to?” Derek asked, wanting to make sure. He pulled back and looked down into Stiles’ eyes. 

Stiles nodded. “Yes.”

Eventually Derek got out the lube and a condom, and wet his fingers, moving them to Stiles’ hole. Stiles arched into the touch, and they went back to kissing each other. 

When Derek pushed a finger in, Stiles tensed, and Derek stopped, waiting for Stiles to adjust before he nodded for Derek to continue, pushing his finger all the way in before pulling back out and then back in, going slow. He didn’t care if Stiles had been fucked yesterday, he wanted to make sure he was good and ready to take him. He didn’t want to half ass it, especially with Stiles, which Derek couldn’t figure out why. Why he felt so special. He didn’t even know him.

But Derek took extra care, and it resulted in Stiles being eager to go once Derek got to three fingers, whimpering and swearing at Derek, telling him to fuck him already. 

Derek reached for the condom, but his hands were shaking and too wet to get it open, so Stiles took it from Derek and opened it for him, then put it on Derek, who closed his eyes and shuddered as he felt Stiles’ fingers on his cock for the first time. 

Then Stiles let go, running his hands up Derek’s chest again before resting them on his shoulders. “Do it,” Stiles said, and tilted his hips up toward Derek’s dick, eager.

“Put it in. You do it,” Derek said, looking at Stiles, who grinned and took Derek’s cock in his hand and brought it to his entrance. Then he pulled on it, and pushed his hips up at the same time. Derek groaned as his head breached his entrance. He gasped when Stiles moved his hands to his hips and pushed him the rest of the way in until he bottomed out. “Are you okay?” Derek said through another gasp. He was so warm and tight, alighting all of Derek’s senses. 

Stiles nodded but told him, “Give me a minute.”

Derek nodded even though Stiles had his eyes closed, and stayed as still as he could, letting Stiles adjust. 

“You’re fucking big, man,” Stiles laughed as he finally opened his eyes and stared into Derek’s eyes. “Makes me feel really fucking full.”

“‘S that good?” Derek practically slurred. Stiles clenched around him over and over again, and it was doing things to Derek’s senses. 

“Oh yeah,” Stiles laughed, and then he told Derek to move, so he did. Slowly at first, but then sped up with Stiles’ urging. Soon he was pumping in and out of Stiles, feeling like he was drowning in ecstasy, and Stiles looked it too, if Derek was to go by the blissed out look on his face.

But then Stiles stopped him at one point. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Stiles looked at Derek, and a soft smile came over his face for some reason. “Nothing. Just...pull out real quick.”

Derek did, and then Stiles grinned and rolled Derek onto his back before straddling him, taking his dick, and pushing back down on it. 

“I wanted to ride you so bad,” Stiles grinned, and Derek grinned too, and it almost hurt to do so. He felt like he hadn’t smiled in a long time until his night. 

Then Stiles moved, and he was fucking good at this. Derek bent his knees, took ahold of Stiles’ hips and thrust up into him as Stiles thrust down. Derek moaned loudly when Stiles rotated his hips instead of moving up and down, and then clenched down on him again. “Fucking hell,” Derek breathed as Stiles proceeded to ride him like crazy, moving fast, his hands holding onto Derek’s chest. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” Stiles said over and over and Derek did, sweat forming all over his body, and Stiles’ too. 

Derek was so lost in Stiles, so lost in his heat and tightness, that he gasped when Stiles pulled off him and then moved off him completely.

“Too tired. Do me from behind,” Stiles said, thrusting his hips out and upward. 

“You want to do all the positions at once?” Derek teased, barely breathing as he got up behind Stiles and slid back in. They both moaned loudly. 

“Kinda,” Stiles laughed, then shouted as Derek thrust into him, hard. “Keep going.”

Derek did, resting his chest against Stiles’ back as he started thrusting wildly, without finesse as he felt his oragasm approaching.

“‘M close,” Stiles whimpered, and Derek reached down under him to take hold of his cock, pumping him over and over again. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” Stiles shouted and as Derek thrust in, Stiles thrusted back, pulling Derek into him deeper. 

Derek moaned loudly and bit Stiles’ shoulder. At Stiles’ pleased shout, Derek did it again. 

“Fuck yes!” 

Derek went even faster, and buried his face in Stiles’ hair as one hand pumped his cock and the other held his chest.

“I’m gonna come,” Derek grunted, and Stiles whimpered.

“Do it, come in me,” Stiles breathed. 

Derek sped up his hand, and as Stiles shouted and quivered in his hold, Derek felt his orgasm building. He and Stiles were both dripping with sweat when Stiles tensed, clenched around Derek and banged his hand on the headboard as he came. Derek felt it on his hand as he continued to pump Stiles. 

And then with several more thrusts, Derek came. He came so hard he shouted, which he never did when he was coming, and his vision went white. He and Stiles collapsed onto the bed, but Derek kept pumping in and out of him as he kept coming. 

“Oh holy fuck,” Derek moaned, shuddering as he stopped coming and felt the aftershocks sear through him. 

They both breathed heavily, and Derek knew he should probably move off of Stiles - but his limbs were jelly, and he couldn’t catch his breath. He was fucked out.

As they came down from their high, Derek eventually found the strength to open his eyes, and found Stiles already staring back at him. 

“That was quite a fuck,” Stiles whispered, clearing this throat. 

“It was.” 

And then they kissed each other. Softly, slowly, sensually. Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair. He was now soft, but he didn’t want to pull out of Stiles’ warmth, his tightness. He didn’t want to move off of Stiles’ body, even though Stiles probably need to breathe properly.

But Derek eventually did, pulling out of Stiles and shifting onto his back beside him. They didn’t say anything more for a long time. Eventually Derek took the condom off and threw it in the trash. But other than that they didn’t move. Stiles didn’t even move though he had to be laying in his own wet spot.

At one point Derek looked over at Stiles, and he was still awake, looking at Derek. “What do you do?”

Derek had swallowed, seeing something in Stiles’ eyes. Like he knew. But there was no way he could know. Derek had just met him that night. And instead of telling him the truth, Derek said, “I own the club.”

Stiles had lifted his eyebrows. “That’s what you couldn’t tell me before?”

“What do your tattoos mean?” Derek had asked. 

Stiles had shrugged. “Nothing in particular. They just looked pretty, I guess.”

Derek knew he was lying. But so was Derek, so he let it go. 

Then they didn’t say anything more, and Derek fell asleep with his eyes lingering on Stiles’ tattoos. 

~*~

They started dating after that night. Peter hated it, but Derek ignored him, ignored his sneers and looks of disdain aimed Stiles’ way. 

Derek didn’t tell Stiles what he did, instead coming up with reasons as to why he had to leave in the middle of the night if Stiles woke up, or why he would be late to their date - a business meeting running long. But Stiles also left at odd times as well sometimes, and since he had told Derek he had a nowhere job - working a convenience store, Derek didn’t know where he went as well. He told Derek he was hanging out with his friends, but Derek never met them. Although Derek didn’t want Stiles to meet his...friends, either. 

He couldn’t avoid Peter meeting Stiles, since Peter came to the club as much as Derek did. But other than that, Derek didn’t let Stiles meet anyone else. They were both hiding things, but since they both had something to hide, they didn’t call each other out on their obvious lies. 

One time Chris Argent came into the club, walking right toward Derek, who was in the VIP booth with Stiles, whispering in his ear and kissing down his neck when Chris had walked up. Derek had tensed, trying to tell Chris with his eyes not to say anything.

Chris was glaring at him as he said, “You know why I’m here.”

“No, I don’t,” Derek said. Then he turned to Stiles, who was watching the exchange with poorly disguised interest. Derek had to nip that interest in the bud. “Sorry, I have to deal with this. Chris owns a nightclub across town. He’s always thinking we did something to undermine his business.”

“Oh?” Stiles had asked. “Like what?”  
“Like stealing my…” Chris started, angry, before he stopped himself, seeming to finally notice Stiles. Then he shook his head, looking back at Derek, ignoring Stiles. “Just, ditch the date for a moment. We need to talk.”

Derek sighed, looking over at Stiles who was watching Chris critically. “I have to deal with this. That okay?”

“Yeah, fine. I’m gonna get another drink,” Stiles said, and then slid out of the booth and started toward the bar. He had to move through dancing bodies to get there, and Derek glared as more than one gaze followed his boyfriend on his path to the bar. 

“Derek,” Chris snapped, and Derek snapped his gaze over to Chris. He slid into the booth where Stiles had sat, although with at least a foot or two of space between him and Derek. “Your uncle stole our sale again. Do you know how much those guns cost our family? How long we were working Hollis to pay a very generous price for them?” 

“What my uncle does is on his own time,” Derek huffed. 

“Bullshit,” Chris snarled. “What he does under the Hale name, he does under your command.”

“I didn’t tell him to do that. I was trying to get another buyer for our guns.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” Chris shook his head. “If you can’t keep your men, even if your uncle, in line? Then maybe you don’t deserve to be the leader of your family’s dynasty.” 

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me, Argent?”

“No,” Chris shook his head. “Just warning you.”

“Warning me? About what?”

“That others might see it that way. That maybe you need to be...taken care of.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “I’m not easy to kill.”

“You’re still mortal, Derek. We all are. And any of us can be killed.”

Derek had glared at Chis as he stood up. He saw Stiles coming back from the corner of his eye - moving off the dance floor toward their booth. He was too close when Chris said, “I’m just telling you, Derek. Your uncle has done this too many times. We try again and again to keep the peace between our families, and he keeps undermining that. My father won’t stand for this anymore.”

Stiles stepped up as Chris was saying that last sentence, and Chris looked at Stiles, huffed, and turned back to Derek. “You’ve been warned.”

Then he left, and Stiles slid in next to Derek, drink in hand. “That sounded ominus.”

“It was nothing,” Derek shook his head. But Derek’s heart was pounding, and he couldn’t put his mind back on his boyfriend, even though Stiles kept asking in different ways what it was about. “Just club stuff. He thinks we’re somehow stealing customers by taking ideas from the Argents. Which we aren’t.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, and Derek stared back, wondering what Stiles was thinking. Derek knew he was a lot more intelligent than he let on - too intelligent to just be working at a convenience store. But Stiles said he liked it there, and he got to be lazy when he wasn’t working, got to just hang out with friends, and now Derek. Said it was an easy life. Derek didn’t buy it.

But Stiles didn’t seem to buy Derek’s explanation for Chris Argent either, so he guessed they were at a stalemate.

They didn’t kiss for the rest of the evening, and Derek didn’t like it. He didn’t like how the distance between them seemed to widen that night.

~*~

One Thursday evening, three months into his relationship with Stiles, Derek walked down a dark street, dressed in a dark suit. The day before, he’d walked into his office and discovered a burner phone hiding in his drawer, below papers he’d had in there. He’d been searching for the contract for one of his employees, which had needed to be renewed. 

He’d wondered who had left it there, how they’d gotten into his office without being detected, and why the police wanted to see him now. The last time he’d met with them, it had been well over a year prior. He’d been feeding them information for what had felt like forever now - so long now that Derek wondered if it would ever end, if he would ever get to be free - and when he’d last met with them it had been to essentially tell Derek what they needed - and why what he had provided so far wasn’t nearly enough. 

It had been a woman detective - Detective Martin, and a male detective, Detective Boyd. He hadn’t seen them since, but he’d kept in touch in other ways. He’d kept feeding them information, and they kept sending back messages that confirmed they got what he’d presented to them. 

Now he was on his way to a hole in the wall coffee shop, wondering if he’d be meeting Detective Martin and Detective Boyd again, or another pair of detectives altogether. But it had to be them, right? They were the ones on this case.

When Derek finally made it to the place, he looked around for a moment in the alley next to it, making sure he wasn’t followed before he entered the coffee shop.

And sure enough, there they were, in plain clothes, sitting on one side of the booth in a corner sipping coffee. Derek quickly walked to the booth and sat opposite them. 

Detective Martin was the first one to talk. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Hale?”

Derek shrugged. “Fine.”

“Keeping safe?”

“As safe as my...line of work is, yes.”

Detective Martin nodded and shared a look with her partner. “We need you to help us with something.”

Derek furrowed his brows. “With what?”

Detective Boyd slid something across the table towards Derek as he spoke, “We have an inside source who got the pictures in this envelope.”

 

Derek eyebrows jumped up in surprise. “Who?”

They said nothing, and Detective Boyd only looked pointedly at the envelope. Derek sighed and opened the envelope, then his eyes widened, stomach dropping at what he saw. 

“What is this.” But it wasn’t a question. It was a quiet exclamation of horror. 

There Peter was, in several photos, standing by while Derek’s men herded people off the back of a large truck. People. 

Derek felt sick to his stomach. In one photo Peter was smirking. 

“I’m going to throw up,” Derek murmured. His uncle wasn’t smuggling in guns, or drugs, or car parts, or any of their regular business. He was smuggling in people. Human trafficking, which was a line his family had never crossed before, ever. His parents might have had some of the worst morals out there, but they refused to go there. No matter what, that was where they drew the line, and they refused to work with anyone who partook in it. “Who got these pictures?”

 

Because someone had to be close, on the inside, to have known where Peter was going, or have been able to follow him to what was obviously an abandoned dock - at least for the night - hide and take those pictures. 

“We can’t disclose who that inside source is,” Detective Martin said, her eyes hard and intense as she looked at Derek, most likely trying to look for a tell, if Derek somehow knew about this.

“H-how…” Derek swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Is this enough to take them down?”

They shared a look before Detective Boyd said, “We need to know where he’s keeping them, who he’s working with to have started in the human trafficking trade, and how we can save them. It’s probably too late to find where they sent these people to,” Boyd pointed at the envelope, now sealed, “but there’s no doubt that he’s going to continue to do this and that he has been doing it for who knows how long.”

Derek swallowed again, and nodded his head. He didn’t know how he would be able to be around his uncle after this and not kill him. But there was still work to be done, and now that Derek knew that there was someone on this inside, most likely on his payroll, he wanted to find out who that was too. Having an ally in this would actually be somewhat comforting, would make him feel like he wasn’t so alone.

Derek had briefly thought of telling Stiles, and Derek got a flash in his mind’s eye of Stiles’ smile, his lips, his kiss, before he shook that thought away. No, he couldn’t tell Stiles who he really was, and what he was really doing. He couldn’t even tell him that he owned more than just a nightclub and that he wasn’t as good a man as he thought he was. Then telling him that he was actually trying to be better, to get out of this life? He wasn’t sure he trusted Stiles enough to tell that and not worry he wouldn’t tell anyone else. He really, really liked Stiles, but they didn’t know each other enough to delve into those deep secrets - because Derek knew that Stiles was hiding things too. 

“I’m going to help take him down,” Derek promised, looking up at the detectives in determination. He would be doing it all alone, which would be difficult, but he would do it. He had to. 

~*~

As the days went on, Stiles seemed to get more distant. One night at the club, Stiles kissed Derek and then said he had to use the bathroom, but then didn’t come back for fifteen minutes. 

“Sorry. Must have had something not so great,” Stiles said, rubbing his stomach and grimacing, even though he hadn’t seem to be in pain when he’d left. 

“Uh huh,” Derek murmured, looking closely at Stiles as he sat next to him. 

Derek thought of breaking up with Stiles several times, but then Stiles would act normal again and do something cute or say something funny, or look at Derek in a certain way, somewhere between the attraction that burned between them and a growing affection. The sex was still as amazing as the first time, but it was clouded by what they weren’t telling each other, which they both knew they weren’t telling each other but which they were refusing to actually talk about. 

At first Stiles was just something...fun, for Derek. Something to take his mind off the horrible world he lived in every once in awhile, but there was something more now with them, something more than just fun. 

Another day Derek came into the club before nightfall, and when he opened his office door, Stiles was behind his desk, sitting in his chair, playing on his phone. Derek froze, looking at his desk, then at Stiles, then at his desk again, before meeting Stiles’ eyes. 

“Hey babe,” Stiles grinned, standing up from his chair and rounded his desk to move toward Derek. When he tried to give him a kiss, Derek stopped him by grabbing his arms and pulling his head back. Stiles stopped short, looking shocked at Derek’s rejection. “Derek?”

“What were you doing in my office?”

Stiles’s brows furrowed. “Waiting for you, what else?”

Either Stiles was a really good actor, or he was telling the truth. Derek couldn’t tell which one was the case with Stiles in that moment. 

“You’ve never waited for me in my office before.”

“Am I...not allowed to?” Stiles was looking at Derek suspiciously now, his brow furrowed in slight confusion and curiosity.

“No, you’re allowed to,” Derek said quickly. “I’m just…” Derek trailed off, then shook his head, not knowing what he could say to Stiles as to why he could possibly be suspicious of Stiles’ motivations for being in his office without him. “Never mind, it’s nothing.”

“Don’t trust easily, perhaps?” Stiles smiled, moving into Derek’s space. 

“Maybe, just a little,” Derek murmured. 

“It’s okay, I get it,” Stiles said, before kissing Derek softly on the mouth. 

That wasn’t the only time Derek caught Stiles acting suspiciously. When they were at Derek’s loft, one time Derek found Stiles in his home office too, then he found him looking through the drawers in his kitchen one night after coming home from a job. Stiles had froze and then smiled too widely and then came up with some lame excuse about looking for a kitchen utensil to use for making dinner. There were no supplies out on the kitchen counter. Stiles countered by saying he was just getting everything out. It was eight in the evening.  
When they were out for dinner, Derek went to the bathroom and when he came back, his phone seemed out of place, but he couldn’t be sure. He looked up at Stiles, who was smiling at him, and when Derek didn’t say anything, tilted his head to the side in confusion. 

One night in bed after sex, Stiles asked a question. “Do you...just do nightclub work?” Stiles murmured.

Derek had pulled away, sitting up and looking down at Stiles, who looked up at Derek. The light from the moon shone through the light curtains and illuminated Stiles’ tattoos.

“Why do you say that?” Derek said, his hackles raised. 

Stiles bit his lip and sat up, looking Derek in the eye. “Because I heard Peter talking the other night.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, his pulse starting to jackhammer in his chest. “Oh? Just last night?”

Stiles looked confused. “What do you mean?”

 

“Stiles,” Derek had scowled. He really liked Stiles, he did. But this was getting ridiculous. “You think I don’t notice when you rifle through my things?”

Stiles swallowed, but then after a second he scowled too. “You think I don’t know that you’re hiding something? I’m not stupid, you know.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Nice deflection, Stiles.”

Stiles lifted his head high, staring down his nose at Derek. “I won’t be played for a fool.”

“Neither will I,” Derek snapped, and then he flung the sheet back and got up.

“Where are you going?” Stiles snarled.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch,” Derek yelled back as he left the room. He walked into his living room naked and then grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch before laying down on his couch, mumbling under his breath in anger. 

~*~

The next day, Stiles was gone before Derek woke up, and he didn’t see him for the rest of the day. That day he had to meet with his supplier for their guns, and Derek wasn’t looking forward to it. He was going to be recording the entire interaction the whole time, and if he was discovered recording it, they would kill him. 

When Derek got there, he took a quiet moment in his car to close his eyes and breathe, to put up his walls so he could act like the mob boss he was supposed to be. It got more and more tiring each time, and Derek didn’t know how much longer he could live in this world. He wasn’t built for it, he didn’t want it, and parts of him resented his parents for bringing him into this life, for having kids at all if this was the kind of world they grew up in. He loved them and missed them all the time, but there was that part of him that was angry with them, too. 

Derek acted cold and harsh in his meeting, and he stared his supplier right in the eyes, hoping to convey, as he did each time, that he had the power to kill him and he wouldn’t bat an eye if he had to. When it was over, Derek was walking back to his car with his bodyguard when something made him pause and slow his steps. 

Ahead to the right, Derek swore he saw a figure hunkered down between buildings in the shipyard, and before he even thought it through, he was moving in that direction - he saw the figure dart away when he did, but he kept going, telling his bodyguard to hang back.

“Sir, I can’t do that-”

“You’ll do what I tell you,” Derek snapped, and continued on. He could handle himself. 

Derek was as quiet as he could be, and when he got to where the figure had been, there was no one, but there were shipping containers beyond the buildings in the shipyard - tons of them - and the person could be anywhere at this point, but Derek didn’t care. He was going to try to find them, because he wanted to know who had been spying on what Derek was doing, and why.

He weaved through the crates silently, pulling his gun out as he did. He paused at the end of the crates and looked around the corners, but for awhile he never saw anything or anyone, until he did. He saw a flash of blue hair as someone darted between one shipping container and the next, and Derek froze for a second, his heart beating wildly before he darted after who he was pretty positive was Stiles. When he got around the next corner, he saw Stiles turning the corner, and he cursed under his breath.

What the fuck was Stiles doing here?

Derek went after Stiles, his blood pounding and his anger rising. His mind was already whirling with possibilities and revelations. Stiles had used him, there was no doubt in Derek’s mind, and he had played Derek for a fool. 

His anger was rising as he rounded the corner of another container and saw Stiles, not quite at the corner, and as he started to run toward Stiles, he didn’t keep quiet at all. Stiles looked over his shoulder and froze, his eyes wide, before he started running as fast as he could away from Derek. But Derek was already close to him, and as Stiles ran and Derek chased, Derek shouted his name, but Stiles ignored him.

But Stiles wasn’t able to outrun Derek for long, and just as Stiles was turning a corner, Derek caught him around the waist and they went tumbling down onto the hard pavement.

“Ah, fuck!” Stiles cursed as Derek landed on top of him, and he could hear the breath knocked out of Stiles. 

“Why the fuck did you follow me?” Derek growled, holding Stiles down to the concrete and not moving an inch. “What the fuck are you doing here, Stiles?”

When Stiles said nothing, Derek growled again and lifted his hand to Stiles’ hair, pushing his face into the ground. “Don’t fuck with me, Stiles!” 

“Ow, fuck, I’m not!” Stiles shouted. “I can’t tell you!”

“Bullshit!” Derek shouted back. “You fucking used me, you piece of shit! If you wanted in the business you could have been upfront about it, you manipulative asshole!”

“I’m not! I don’t!” Stiles shouted. “Just - just let me up and I’ll explain everything!”

Derek laughed harshly. “You think I’m going to let you up just so you can bolt? Fuck you!” Derek spat. 

“Derek, I swear, it’s not what you think!”

“Don’t bullshit me, Stiles. You used me, you manipulated me, and you’re a fucking piece of shit!”

“I know you’re informing to the police!” Stiles shouted suddenly, and Derek froze, then looked up and around them. Why the fuck had Stiles shouted that?

“Are you trying to get me fucking killed,” Derek growled, and he pushed Stiles’ face into the concrete harder. 

“No, I swear,” Stiles breathed heavily. “I’m sorry, I’m panicking, you’re scaring me!”

“I’m scaring you?” Derek glared at the back of Stiles’ head, and his stupid fucking dyed blue lock of hair. 

“Yes,” Stiles hissed as Derek pushed harder on his head. “I know who you are, and while you might be doing something good, you’re still a Hale.”

That made Derek stop, made him loosen his hold, made him let up. He pulled up from Stiles, although he still sat on his waist to keep him in place. Stiles gasped in a breath before he moved up to his elbows.

“I’m still a Hale, huh?” Derek murmured. “And what does that mean, Stiles?”

Stiles was quiet for a long minute, before he said just as quietly as Derek had, “I know of the Hale reputation.”

“You do, do you?” 

“Yes,” and then Stiles looked over his shoulder at Derek. “But not because I want to be in a criminal organization, okay? It’s because I’m a cop.”

Derek froze, and then he stood up, backing away from Stiles a few steps. Stiles stood up and turned around, not running away, but looking at Derek wearily.

“You’re a cop?” Derek asked. Then it struck him like a lightning bolt, his eyes widening, “You’re the undercover cop. You’re the one who got those pictures of Peter.”

Stiles cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” Derek turned his back to Stiles, then thought better of doing that and turned back around, looking at Stiles. “Motherfucker.” Derek paused, looking away from Stiles, trying to take it all in. After a minute he looked back at Stiles, who was staring steadily at Derek. “So I was just a job to you, huh?”

Stiles swallowed, and then he was the one to look away. “At first,” Stiles murmured. 

“What, then it became more?” Derek sneered, annoyed that he felt hurt. 

“Well...yes,” Stiles cleared his throat, looking back at Derek. “But then I wondered if…”

“If?” Derek prompted.

“If you were in on Peter’s...dealings.”

Derek tensed, then glared at Stiles, his anger rising again. “You knew I was informing to the police for years and yet you thought me capable of that?”

Stiles pursed his lips, looking down at the ground as he put his hands on his hips. “When Detective Martin and Boyd told me you now knew about it, and then you didn’t act very...upset about it, I got suspicious.”

“You think just because I wasn’t visibly upset that that meant I wasn’t?” Derek snapped, unable to reign in his annoyance.

“You weren’t telling me anything, Derek,” Stiles huffed, and Derek raised his eyebrows. Stiles saw and shook his head. “I don’t mean like information, I mean your...thoughts and feelings on things, you weren’t...opening up. I’ve been falling for you, and it was hard to not even have a sliver of you.”

“You weren’t forthright with your feelings either, Stiles. You were lying to me too.”

“I know, I know,” Stiles sighed, shaking his head. “I just…”

“Just what?” 

“I just started to wonder if you really were a good man or if you had...changed your mind and didn’t want to help us anymore.”

Derek shook his head. “No wonder you were so tense while we fucked.”

Stiles looked away again. 

Derek glared at him. “Why did they put you undercover and not tell me?”

Stiles looked back at Derek, biting his lip. “We weren’t...sure, of you.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“You weren’t giving us...anything. I mean, obviously you were giving us things, but not enough, not nearly enough to take the whole organization down. And when we heard rumors from informants that the Hale mafia might be dabbling in human trafficking, they wanted to know for sure.”

“And didn’t trust me to handle it?” Derek said, shaking his head and turning his back on Stiles again. Fuck it, Stiles was a cop, he wouldn’t kill Derek. And he was supposedly falling for Derek, so there was that too. Although Derek wasn’t one hundred percent sure on that. 

“Derek…” Stiles said. “I’m sorry.”

Derek turned back around, looking at Stiles.

“I’m sorry for lying to you, for not telling you who I was or what I was doing.”

Derek nodded slowly, then a thought occurred to him “Is Stiles even your real name?”

Stiles bit his lip. “Yes and no.” When Derek raised an eyebrow, Stiles clarified. “It’s not my legal name, no. But I’ve gone by Stiles since I was a kid, so it is my name.”

“But not something that could be traced back to ‘Stiles the cop’,” Derek said, shaking his head. Of course.

“But I never go by my legal name ever,” Stiles said. “Stiles is what I go by.”

“Uh huh,” Derek said, nodding. 

“We’re on the same side, Derek,” Stiles said softly, and Derek looked at Stiles, who now seemed to be pleading with Derek. 

“Do you still believe I would be a part of human trafficking? That I would be okay with it?”

Stiles immediately said no, but Derek wasn’t quite so sure. Were they really on the same side if Stiles still believed Derek capable of being a monster?

“Derek, I swear to you, I don’t,” and Stiles took two steps toward Derek, and it felt like a gap was slowly closely between them. Stiles looked sincere, but Derek wasn’t sure. “Derek, you weren’t at any of the scenes of the trafficking, Lydia and Boyd said you looked genuinely horrified when you saw those pictures. I believe it.”

Derek sighed, raising a hand to run it through his hair. “I don’t want you to be on your toes around me, not entirely trusting me. It’s been like that the whole time we’ve been together, for you and for me.”

“I know,” Stiles said.

“I mean, were we even really together?” Derek looked up at Stiles, dropping his hand against his thigh, sighing. 

“Maybe not...completely,” Stiles winced. “But maybe we...could be?”

“Could we?”

“Well, if we pull this off and bring down the entire organization, you could be free and we could...maybe be together.”

Stiles looked hopeful, and Derek felt his resolve weakening. 

“I would never condone human trafficking,” Derek said. He needed to say it, he needed Stiles to see and know it, not just believe it. “I’ve never felt right about any of this,” Derek said determinedly. He still felt guilt over the men he’d killed years ago in his grief, even if they had been bad men. It would be nice to excuse it for himself because of that, but he was still haunted by their faces sometimes. He would never be able to live with himself if stood by and let Peter traffic human beings. 

Stiles closed the remaining distance between them, and Derek sucked in a deep breath when Stiles cupped his cheek. 

“I believe you,” Stiles murmured. 

Derek let out a shaky breath, and Stiles stepped closer, so close that their chests were almost touching. 

“I believe you,” Stiles whispered.

“I want to help,” Derek said, and he saw the smile start to form on Stiles’ face. “I want to take Peter down. The Argents too, if we can.”

“We’re sure as hell going to try,” Stiles said, and then he kissed Derek, hard. Derek sucked in a surprised breath, then kissed Stiles back, and as he kissed Stiles, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Stiles was no longer hiding things, Derek was no longer hiding things, and it was just them, no pretense. 

Derek wrapped his arms around Sitles’ waist and pulled him into his body, holding onto him as they kissed and kissed and kissed. 

Eventually they pulled back for air, and they both sighed shakily. 

“You aren’t a job for me,” Stiles said, looking up at Derek. “I’m not even supposed to be with you. Lydia and Boyd don’t even know I’m with you.”

“They don’t?” Derek was shocked. 

“Yeah…” Stiles bit his lip. “They’d have my ass if they found out, even if I played it off like I was just trying to get information.”

“Why?”

Stiles shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “In case I get too...close, if I gain feelings.”

Derek and Stiles looked at each other, and Derek smiled softly. “Oops.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, oops.”

And then they were kissing again, and Derek ignored any doubts or fears he might have and kissed Stiles deeper, losing himself in his lips. 

Derek knew he was fucked if Stiles ended up lying to him and hurting him, but he felt content kissing Stiles, having him in his arms, feeling closer than he’d ever felt to Stiles before. And if he got hurt, he got hurt. He would never know unless he tried. 

And maybe, he and Stiles working together could be a good thing, maybe it could work, and they could be happy in the end. Maybe.

~*~

In the present, Derek woke up holding Stiles in his arms. He took a deep breath and held Stiles a little bit tighter. 

Turned out, they really were in this together. Instead of pulling further apart, they had only grown closer together. Stiles hadn’t acted suspicious with Derek or like he didn’t trust him, and instead opened up more to Derek as Derek did with him. 

The last six months had been amazing in terms of their relationship. Everything else was going well in terms of the investigation, too. They were almost there, almost done, Derek could feel it. He had thought this would never come, but they were moving in, they were getting close. 

Eventually Derek gently let go of Stiles and rolled out of bed. 

They still hadn’t let on to the police that they were an item, although some days he wondered if Lydia and Boyd knew. They had revealed to them that Derek knew about Stiles being undercover, not sharing the romantic aspect of their relationship, so now he and Stiles went to meet with them together, and they’d been doing that more and more as the months went by. The last time they met, they had said they were moving in on Peter and his operation that night, and Derek believed them because they had gained a lot of evidence over time, and he and Stiles had recently gotten the location where Peter was holding the people he trafficked. 

Today Derek had to go to the club, see Peter, and act like he wasn’t bursting at the seams to knock him out and bring him to the police right then and there. No, the police wanted to get Peter and save the people, some of whom were just children. 

But no, it was happening tonight, not that morning, so Derek had to play nice. It was going to be torture, and if Peter was as disgusting as he usually was Derek didn’t know how long he’d last before he killed him. 

A few hours into his day, he got a text from Stiles that said, ‘we still on for tonight?’ which Derek knew was meant to be a confirmation that he would be at the place they agreed on at the time they agreed on. Derek texted back an affirmative and went back to finishing paperwork, his mind barely on the task at hand. But he had to look busy. 

By the time 6 o’clock rolled around, Derek was anxious and fidgety, and it was hard to hide when Peter came to his office to talk about the upcoming drug deal they were running - but that would never actually happen, if everything went right that night.

It took everything in Derek to remain stoic when Peter paused at his door, looking back at Derek. 

“Yes?” Derek said, leaning back in his chair and trying to look as casual as he could. 

“You know…” Peter said, narrowing his eyes. “That boyfriend of yours...he’s tougher than he looks.”

Derek tensed, and he narrowed his eyes at his uncle. “Your point being?”

“He’s just...more than what he seems,” Peter said with a smirk, and Derek tensed further. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, uncle,” is all Derek said in reply even as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Derek,” Peter nodded, and he was grinning as he left the room.

Derek’s blood ran cold, and he started to panic. Did Peter know? No, he couldn’t...could he? Had Derek been careless somehow, did he not check hard enough for someone following him when he went to meet the detectives? Was Peter somehow there that night 6 months ago when Derek found out who Stiles was and had been hiding? Had Derek been so distracted by his growing feelings for Stiles that he messed up?

Heart pounding, Derek got his things and left, rushing to the meet up point. When he got there, Stiles was the only one there. The detectives and their backup weren’t there yet, as they weren’t meant to start the operation for another ten minutes, but Derek stopped his car and rushed to meet Stiles. 

“Hey,” Stiles said, and they kissed quickly before Derek pulled back.

“We might have a problem.”

“What?” Stiles’ face fell as he tensed. 

“Peter came to see me before I left and he made a pointed comment about you being more than what you seemed,” Derek said quickly, his pulse still beating fast. 

Stiles paled a little and his eyes widened before he shook his head. “No, I checked and the people they’re trafficking are still in the building. If he knew he would have moved them.”

“Unless he plans to trap us.” 

Stiles cursed and ran his hand through his hair. Then he pulled out his phone and walked a few feet away, and Derek heard him say Lydia’s name, which meant he was informing her of this potentially damning new element. 

Derek looked around the empty lot, on high alert. Derek tried to comfort himself with the thought that if Peter wanted him dead, then he would have done it already. He couldn’t know...unless he just liked playing games, which Derek wouldn’t put past his uncle. Fuck.

Stiles’s hands cupping his face snapped Derek out of his freak out, and Derek sucked in a sharp breath.

“It will be okay,” Stiles said, his voice steady. “Even if it is a trap, we’re going to have basically the whole force backing us up. Even Peter can’t defend against that.”

Derek swallowed and nodded reluctantly. 

“If Peter knew about me, that doesn’t mean he knows about when we’re moving in on him. We keep that information untraceable for that very reason.”

Derek nodded again, and Stiles’ words comforted him, as did the kiss on his cheek, then his other check and then his forehead. Derek sighed, melting a little into the comfort Stiles provided.

“We can do this,” Stiles reassured him.

“We can do this,” Derek repeated, opening his eyes to look into Stiles’. 

 

“We’ll get Peter, we’ll take down the organization, we’ll get to be together, and you’ll be able to get out of this life. I promise.”

Derek huffed out a shaky laugh. “You can’t promise that.”

“I know,” Stiles murmured. “But I am anyway.”

They kissed softly, for a long moment, and Derek felt his pulse raise for an entirely different reason now. When they pulled back from the kiss, Stiles smiled softly and then hugged Derek. 

They would do this. They had to, otherwise Derek was dead, one way or another. 

~*~

Of course Derek had to stay in the car, as he wasn’t a cop. But they still had two cops staying with him in case Peter tried to get to Derek while everyone was preoccupied with what was happening in the building. 

Derek wasn’t scared for himself, though, because Stiles was going in there. Of course he was armed and he had a bulletproof vest. But a bulletproof vest wouldn’t protect against a bullet to the head. 

Derek was wringing his hands together where he sat in the back seat of the black SUV, the two cops in the front. 

It was ten minutes before he heard gunshots, but it felt like forever before it happened. After the first few shots, Derek tensed, jerking forward.

“Mr. Hale, stay back,” one of the cops said, holding out a hand. 

Derek breathed heavily and sat back, his mind whirring, his thoughts focused mainly on Stiles. He wanted to run out of the car and find Stiles and make sure he was okay, but he knew if he did they would stop him. He was a sitting duck, and he hated it.  
Derek saw the first trickle of those who had been trafficked being taken out of the building by cops, safe, as the gunfire increased. 

And then, while Derek was watching more and more people be taken out of the warehouse building by the cops, two shots rang out, through the windshield of the car Derek was in, and blood splattered as both the cops in the car were shot in the head. 

Derek jumped and looked up, and his heart slammed in his chest when he saw Peter walking toward the car. Fuck. 

Of course he had escaped, somehow. If he hadn’t know about Stiles, he had to have known something, otherwise he would have been caught blind and would have been captured by the police.

Derek breathed heavily as he scrambled over the back seat and opened the back door. He had two options. Run as fast as he could, out in the open, where his uncle could easily shoot him in the head and kill him, or he could move around the car, which was his only hope at saving himself. They were far enough away from the warehouse, near another building, but it wasn’t close enough for Derek to get to without being out in the open. 

Derek didn’t bother closing the back door to the SUV, instead he got out of the car and went around the side of the car, peaking around to see how close Peter was to him, when a shot sounded and Derek just missed getting his brains blown out by his uncle. Derek breathed heavily, crouching down and moving to the rear of the vehicle and peering around the corner.

Peter was coming right toward him. Fuck, Derek was dead. 

“Derek!” Peter called, taunting. “Do you want to know a secret!”

Derek saw Peter moving toward the right side of the SUV, so Derek ducked down around the left side, breathing heavily. 

“The fire was actually because of the Argents. Because of Kate Argent to be exact, only she hadn’t been working alone.”

Derek froze, not sure he was hearing right, what Peter was implying. Derek had been close to Kate Argent years ago, and in his grief he had slept with her a few times, but it had never been anything more than a friendship. But eventually Derek had gotten tired of her bullshit, her manipulations and callousness, her complete and utter lack of a conscience, and had ended their benefits, their friendship, everything. He hadn’t even seen her in about 3 years. 

“You see, Derek,” Peter said, and his voice was a lot closer than it had been. Derek, still crouched, ran around to the front of the vehicle. He could hear Peter’s footsteps around the back. “Talia was older than me, and when our parents died, she took over, even though she was nowhere near qualified to take on such a position. Plus, a woman Don? That was unheard of. But your grandparents named her as successor in their...private will. Her, not me. Talia Hale, the golden child, the perfect sibling, the apple of our father’s eye.” 

Derek held onto the passenger door handle for a long moment as he took in what his uncle was saying.

“Now, you...well, with you it was easy to bide my time. Plus, when you first took over you were even more of a joke than you are today,” Derek heard Peter’s footsteps stop just as he reached the corner at the back of the SUV. Derek looked over his shoulder, trying to keep his breathing even and steady. “I figured your stupidity and recklessness would kill you before I ever had to. I even thought, for a time, you might be useful. The way you shot that crime lord blank in the head without even flinching, like I’d seen you do so many times before, it gave me hope.” 

Derek’s gut tightened.

“But that didn’t last long. You reverted back to your stupid, meek little ways. Not wanting to murder anyone, wanting our illegal dealings as clean as possible, not bothering to take the presents your only family member gives you so generously.” 

Peter was referring to the woman he had tied up and expected Derek to rape. Derek shuddered, feeling queasy. 

“So I bided my time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill you and make it look like I had nothing to do with it. It succeeded with our family - Kate was so eager to do it, so excited it was almost hilarious how much she despised our family. Luckily, I did too. But then you and Laura decided to go out that night instead of go to the little...family reunion.” 

Derek clenched his jaw, wishing he had brought his gun tonight. But seeing as how he’d be around a ton of cops who were letting him go free after this was over and not to jail, Derek had left it in his office, which had been extremely idiotic. Although he had been so panicked that he’d rushed out of there.

“Laura...was easy. Waited two years to let everything die down, then slit her throat in the alley behind the club. The police believed it to be random gang violence. Then you took over, and I knew it couldn’t be quite so random with you. Would be a little too suspicious. So I waited...but you, well, you’ve been a busy boy, haven’t you, Derek?”

Derek heard his footsteps again and started moving.

“Informing on the police. And I saw your little boyfriend run into that warehouse, badge on his chest...I should have known. Now, I knew about you, I figured it out a few weeks ago, but your boyfriend...even he had me fooled. He’s a good actor, the way he pretended to care about you, and how he pretended to be a lowlife criminal. So you see, Derek, you’ve put a wrench in plans for the perfect death for you, a death that wouldn’t implicate me at all. Now….well now I’m just going to have to kill you, no matter how messy, unfortunately.” 

Derek heard his steps again, and Derek’s breathing sped up in fear. He made it to the front of the car again just as Peter rounded the corner, gun aimed at Derek. He fired and Derek ducked, feeling the bullet graze his arm as he did. 

Derek made a sound of pain as he tried to stand and run, but Peter caught up to him, pulling Derek by his coat and flinging him to the ground.

“This is where you die, Derek,” Peter grinned, the look in his eyes maniacal as he stepped over Derek and raised the gun to Derek’s head. 

Derek wanted to cry but he didn’t. He wouldn’t give his uncle the satisfaction, ever. 

“So weak....it’s amazing, how you came from my sister and you’re like this. One thing my sister wasn’t was weak, I’ll give her that. But you…” Peter tsked, and he straightened up a little but kept the gun at Derek’s temple. “Say goodbye, Derek.” 

Derek instead seethed as he said “fuck you,” and Peter laughed, his finger on the the trigger before a shot rang out and a bullet hole appeared on Peter’s forehead, and a second, then two seconds, passed before Peter’s limp grip dropped the gun to the ground and he fell forward onto Derek, who gasped and immediately pushed Peter off of him onto the ground.

And standing a few feet away was Stiles, gun pointed where Peter had been standing, as he looked down at Derek.

Derek gasped, and Stiles lowered his gun as he ran toward Derek, “Are you okay?” Stiles practically shouted as he knelt next to Derek and took his face in his hands.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Derek repeated as Stiles ran his hands over Derek’s body to check if he was hurt or not. 

Stiles looked up at Derek, his eyes shining with unshed tears even as he smiled.

“We got ‘em, Derek. We got ‘em.” 

“You did?” Derek breathed, shocked.

“Yeah,” Stiles laughed shakily. “Some of those who were trafficked didn’t make it...but the majority are going to be okay. Well...physically okay,” Stiles amended as he looked over his shoulder. Cop cars were pulling up to the warehouse now, and all of Derek’s men were being walked out in cuffs.

“That’s good, that’s amazing,” Derek breathed, looking up at Stiles, who grinned. 

“You did it, Derek. Without you, we would have had nothing. Without you, this wouldn’t have been possible.”

Derek could hardly process it all as Stiles took him by the hand and pulled him up to a standing position. He looked at Peter’s body, his unseeing eyes pointed toward the sky, and didn’t know how to feel. Although one thing he knew he didn’t feel was grief. He felt no sadness for the uncle he had lost, or that he didn’t have any family left now.

Well....he did, in a way. Derek looked at Stiles, who had discovered the cops who had been protecting him and was calling over Detective Martin and Detective Boyd. 

When Stiles looked back at him and they locked eyes, Derek knew that now was the time for that life he’d always wished he’d had growing up. A normal life - or, well...as normal as life could be for Derek. But he was free, he could leave this life with Stiles by his side. He felt almost weightless as he was led to a car to be driven to the station to take down his statement.

“I’m free,” Derek whispered in the back seat of the car with Stiles, who turned his head to look at Derek from where he sat next to him.

And ignoring Lydia and Boyd in the front seat, Stiles took Derek’s hand in his. “We’re free.”

Derek looked at Stiles, at his tattoos, at his streak of blue hair, and felt his breath hitch. And Stiles’ eyes...as they passed street lamps, they glowed a beautiful gold color, and Derek thought right then and there that he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his whole life.

“I love you,” Derek murmured, and he meant it. He meant it with all of his heart. 

Stiles grinned and then leaned in to give Derek a gentle kiss. “I love you, too” Stiles whispered against his lips, and Derek’s heart soared at hearing those words.

Stiles wasn’t just a fun time, and Derek wasn’t just a job for Stiles. They were so much more, and without Stiles Derek knew he wouldn’t have gotten through this alive and well. Stiles had become his everything in the last year, and though things had been rocky, they’d made it through, together. 

Derek didn’t let go of Stiles’ hand until they told him Stiles couldn’t be in the room when they took down his statement. 

But even then, their hands lingered, and Derek watched Stiles walk away into the bullpen with a soft smile on his face. He was going to be okay. 

Derek couldn’t stop grinning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me over on [Tumblr](http://haletostilinski.tumblr.com).


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